


Flight

by mightyfinestride27



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Arthur's hiding something, Feathers and wings!, M/M, Magic I tell you, Magic Revealed, Soul Bond, Young Arthur, two sides of the same coin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:56:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mightyfinestride27/pseuds/mightyfinestride27
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Arthur was a child he was forced him to hide something. Something very important. What if Merlin wasn't the only one with a secret?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello nice to meet you. I don't own merlin. If I did arthur wouldn't have died and magic would now be flourishing in camelot and arthur would never have married gwen. Ohh well on with the story.

Ever since he could remember, he knew he was different. Not just because he was Uther's son, the future king of Camelot. No, it was for an entirely different reason.

It wasn't like he couldn't feel things. Like the happiness, anger, and love and the various other emotions normal people experienced. However, ever laugh every tear and smile felt unnatural and hollow. The intensity was never there. It was like he was chained, trapped and no amount of will power could stop him feeling that way. He was missing something and for the life of him he couldn't work out what it was.

As he grew and matured, the feeling never left him, gnawing at the back of his mind. 

That changed somewhat after a hunting trip the summer of his 12th year.

He had come back, weary boned, aching but satisfied. The hunt had been good, his skills finally at a level where he could take down larger animals with little difficulty. He had felled a deer!

Too exhausted to fully undress, he collapsed and fallen asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow.

He stirred, an intense itchy sensation running down his shoulder blades. Frustrated and sleepy, he did the most logical thing you would do in that situation. Scratch the itch. He rolled onto his side, reaching behind and trailing fingers under his shirt and up his back. He winced. It stung and felt wet to the touch and there was a lump and something else was hidden underneath it. Blood stained his fingers as he withdrew them and his eyes widened in shock. He didn't remember being injured.

A full length dress mirror stood near his wardrobe and he made his way over to it. Taking his shirt off gently with a hiss of pain, he turned and craned his neck to look back at the mirror.

Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that greeted him. Two wide bloody gouges spanned the length of his shoulder blades, and as he turned to the side, his shoulder blades elongated further out of his back than they did before. As he probed the red angry looking skin, at first he thought it was a hair that got trapped in the scabbed over skin. A sharp tug and the hair pulled free. As he drew back his hand to look at it, he realised it wasn't a hair at all. It was a feather.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. Sorry to anyone who clicked on this thinking I had uploaded another chapter. That is not the case. I just wasn't satisfied with this chapter so I rewrite it with added new stuff. To all those newcomer, Welcome! I hope you enjoy this new refreshed version of the original. Thank you and peace to all xx

"Well poop," Arthur thought as he paced the length of his room and back. He had done this for hours, trying to make sense of the situation he now found himself in. Not only did he have feathers sticking out of his back, a fact he checked more than 30 times, but the light was already streaming through the curtains indicating that another gruelling morning of training was upon him. How was he suppose to focus on acting normal when every look in the mirror shocked him as if it was the first time?

The scabs were still as red as ever, but it had stopped bleeding now that he'd stopped picking at it. Some of the scabs had fallen off, and more of the feathers underneath could be seen as the white feathers contrasted greatly with his tanned back, making them look even more whiter and luminous in the dim light. The 'lumps' looked more prominent as well, noticeably protruding out of his back. They were large, but not impossible to hide if the situation called for it. That was one thing Arthur could be thankful for.

Although he had been damn successful in quelling the panic that threatened to overwhelm him at any second, just imagining his father's reaction if he found out sent him back to the beginning again. It would be bad, very bad. This could only have been brought about by magic, and we all know Uther's attitude towards anything remotely magical. Slice..thud. Being his son might give him some leeway but it is guaranteed that the outcome wouldn't be good for anyone involved, especially Arthur. Uther would only see one end, namely killing whoever is responsible for this, probably not even considering Arthur in all of this or even if there is someone to blame. He would stop at nothing to get rid of them, maybe even resorting to plucking him like a chicken to make him normal again.

Even after only a few hour with them, Arthur could already tell these were more than just a temporary fixture. They felt bone deep, more than just the superficial tuft of feathers. It felt like something was happening beneath the surface of his skin. His whole back ached with a pain not dissimilar to when your bones grow rapidly and your body doesn't have time to catch up. Whatever it was, it wasn't over.

There was a knock at the door. He raced to get a shirt over his head, somehow getting his arm stuck in the head hole before he got it into the right place.

"Come in,"he called trying to appear nonchalant.

It was one of the servants, what's his name, and in his hands was a breakfast tray. It was then that Arthur realised how hunger he was. The servant, a young man with brown hair and an indifferent expression, placed the tray on the table and turned to face Arthur.

"Anything else, my lord?"

"No that will be all."

The servant turned and silently made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving him alone once more.

As he devoured every crumb, he contemplated what to do next. The only way to know how to get rid of them is to find out what caused them in the first place. That meant he needed a wealth of information on magic and magical ailments. That meant Gaius. But that would also mean he would have to tell Gaius about his problem. No, it is better if no one knows. He had a feeling that, although he trusts Gaius completely, it would too much of a risk to let anyone know, at least until it was all sorted out and he knew what the hell was going on. But first there was training. Arthur groaned. This was going to be hell.

He was correct in that assumption. His trainer was ruthless and gave him no mercy. By the time the man was done for the day he was black and blue all over. His back burned intensely and throbbed in time with his heartbeat. Every time he moved, the small feathers caught on the back of his shirt, creating a surreal expression. It wasn't bad per say, just new and it wasn't something he was use to.

His trainer dismissed him and he lay on the dusty ground for a while, trying to muster the energy to get up. The position he lay in, spread eagle on the ground felt like heaven to his abused sleep deprived body except for the pressure it put on his new appendages. It also put a strain on his stomach, where a bruise was beginning to form. It was a particularly painful one and stretched from his bellybutton to the start of his ribs in a mottle of blue and red. It made it difficult to move and hurt enough that a trip to Gaius is almost compulsory at this point.

It was a difficult journey to Gaius's chambers and Gaius greeted him as was the norm.

"what have you done this time?" he said and didn't even look up from the heavy tome he was reading from.

Arthur limped over and plunked himself down on the adjacent bench before replying, "Training."

"Ah," Gaius simple said since nearly every training session ended in Arthur needing to see him. Since his birthday, Uther had decided that he just wasn't good enough and had upped the training, despite the fact that Arthur was years ahead of his peers. It was causing the poor boy to see him more than any other patient.

He raised an eyebrow, seeing the state of the boy before saying," Better have a look then. Where seems to be the problem?

"My chest," Arthur said and watched Gaius move round the table.

"Shirt up then please," he said and moved to the bench to get the best view of the area.

He lifted up the front of his shirt and for a moment panic swept over him. Just a little tug upwards and the little clump of feather would be exposed. It caused great relief when he realised that the shirt could be pulled up in such a way that it protects the clump for unsuspecting eyes.

Gaius took a while to inspect the injury closely, poking and prodding it gently. He seemed to reach a decision and moved away to look through his many bottles of remedies and concoctions.

"It is a serious bruise but nothing life threatening. There seems to be no sign of internal bleeding and nothing seems to be broken. Just spread this thoroughly over the area morning and night and it should have gone down in a couple of days." he said and handed him a glass container full of a cream like ointment.

He looked at him sternly, "No training till then. Understand?"

Arthur looked disgruntled but agreed. Without training his week would be very boring.

He turned to leave but then paused. He opened his mouth before closing it again and in the end asked, "Gaius, have you ever heard of an ordinary person sprouting feathers for no reason?"

Giaus looked at him strangely, "No, the only reason a person would do that would be if the cause is of magical origin such as a spell or enchantment. Why?"

"Ur, no reason. Just overheard the guards talking about it."

"Well, that is nothing you should have to worry about," Gaius said mistaking Arthur's panic for worry, "now off you go. I need to get Mrs. Bungo's soothers ready and I can't have you distracting me. Come see me again of it gives you too much trouble."

He left quickly and started the journey back to his room. Before he had even got halfway there, he bumped into a person as he was rounding the corner. It was Morgana and she looked just as surprised as he is to see each other standing here.

Her eyes widened, gained an angered expression, "Shouldn't you be with your father right now. Or did you forget again?" she hissed looking more like a vengeful spirit that a young girl. She gave him one last glare before then stomping away back down the corridor. "I'll never understand girls," he concluded as he changed direction to go towards Uther's chamber. Clearly from the conversation he had just had, if you could even call it that, father wanted to see him. As much as he wanted to go straight to his chambers and sleep for the next 12 hours, he knew that going seeing his father when he's summoned mattered a lot more. It was better being a little sleep deprived than suffer the wrath that would no doubt be created from his absence.

"Whatever it is that father wants, I hope it'll be quick,"he thought wincing even through the pain relief Gaius gave him.

Uther's chambers sat on the south side of the castle so it wasn't long before Arthur stood before the large wooden doors that led into his father's chambers.

Pausing for a moment, he tried to regain some of his composure. He patted himself down as best he could to get the worse of the dust and mud off, which was still trying to stubbornly cling to his clothing. Despite his best efforts, he still looked like he had rolled around in the dirt all morning, something Uther was bound to criticize him on. He straightened him back and tried to present what he thought was a princely image i.e. Confident, nose in the air like he is smelling shit and a relaxed, pain-free face.

He knocked on the wood of the door firmly. A shuffle of paper and then a voice penetrated through the door to Arthur's ears.

"Come in!"

He pulled the door open and there sat in his chair, sorting through a heavy stack of papers, was his father, Uther Pendragon, King of Camelot. He was still dressed in all his finery so he must have just got back from a meeting with his advisor's, crown still firmly placed upon graying hair. He was an intimidating presence even doing the most trivial of tasks and for a moment Arthur didn't know what to say next. The man was his father and he loved him dearly but the way his eyes penetrated Arthur's forced all words out of him. Thankfully he recovered quickly.

"Good evening father, I've heard that you wanted to speak to me," he said after closing the door.

"Yes. I needed to discuss a matter with you and personally congratulate you on the fine buck you took down yesterday. I couldn't be more proud of you." Uther looked at him approvingly and even from his place on the other end of the table Arthur could see how proud he is.

"Thank you," Arthur said, trying in vain to stop a blush from rising to his cheeks.

"Now my advisor's have brought up something that had previously not been brought to my attention. A good king needs to know the intimate workings of Camelot in order for everything to run effectively. That is why from this day forth you will join me in the daily meeting with my advisor's and lords. It will be a good lesson for you as future king."

Arthur repressed a groan. From what he'd heard all of what consisted of these meetings where a lot of old farts complaining. Even Uther himself had, on occasion, expressed negative opinions on where the old farts could shove it.

"Yes father," he said trying to sound at least a bit enthusiastic.

Uther seemed to buy it as he continued, "Also your lessons will resume as of today. They will begin first thing tomorrow."

This time he really couldn't suppress a groan. His lessons were always so very boring. Maths, geography, history. In other words all the most boring things combined. At least in training you are allowed to hit your teacher.

Uther gave him a stern look, "These lessons are very important. Do you understand Arthur? One day your life and the welfare of this kingdom may rely on the information you are now being taught. It is vital that you pay attention. You will be punished if I find you slacking off in any of your lesson, understand?"

Arthur gave a nod in reply, although he very much doubted that knowing when the Bread act came to pass would be very helpful in a life and death situation.

Uther turned back to his paper and dismissed him. He was free to make his way back to his rooms finally. He was never so glad to see the soft cotton of his bed in his life. He could finally relax.

Despite the fact that he didn't get any sleep the last night, he still couldn't get to sleep. He tossed and turned for hours before falling into a pitiful sleep.

Wind. Wind whooshing and blowing through his hair. The sun beaming down on his face. A warm weight at his side. An endless blue. Freedom.


End file.
